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Articles 601 - 630 of 677
Full-Text Articles in Fiction
Tremors, David Jauss
Tremors, David Jauss
Bryant Literary Review
The night I heard you have Parkinson's
I dreamed I was walking through the meadow
Lessons, Ronald Thorpe
Lessons, Ronald Thorpe
Bryant Literary Review
I cannot remember
a day when I did not think
about dying.
School Spirit, J. Tarwood
School Spirit, J. Tarwood
Bryant Literary Review
Has anybody here ever cheered
A high school quarterback
Frog Legs, Robert Samarotto
Frog Legs, Robert Samarotto
Bryant Literary Review
They lie on my plate
like dismembered Barbie Dolls.
The Middle Years, Walt Mcdonald
The Middle Years, Walt Mcdonald
Bryant Literary Review
Planning a family, we thought heaven would be
four collie pups, two acres without a fence
"Tiny, Delicate Fishbones...", Peggy Lin Duthie
"Tiny, Delicate Fishbones...", Peggy Lin Duthie
Bryant Literary Review
Some January days, every scrap of sky
sparkles needle-sharp blue and clean
The Gerbils, Rustin Larson
The Gerbils, Rustin Larson
Bryant Literary Review
Happily busy in the middle of the night
Destroying their cardboard tube. To sleep
On The Horizon, Bill Sweeney
On The Horizon, Bill Sweeney
Bryant Literary Review
Girls measure their shadows across a tiny courtyard;
above, telephone lines, aerials, antenna
Walking Home From The Cemetery, Peggy Lin Duthie
Walking Home From The Cemetery, Peggy Lin Duthie
Bryant Literary Review
I dreamed that corpses did not rot
but recomposed, chose new disguise:
The Letter Carrier, Ronald Thorpe
The Letter Carrier, Ronald Thorpe
Bryant Literary Review
Who understood him? Not his brothers.
His father's love had been drained away
The Nazi, Baron Wormser
The Nazi, Baron Wormser
Bryant Literary Review
I can't remember who played the Nazi
But his face thrummed like glass in summer sun.
The Last Block Party, Bud Johnson
The Last Block Party, Bud Johnson
Bryant Literary Review
The sun is setting over the deserted soccer field near the burial mound.
In The New Guinea Highlands, John Grey
In The New Guinea Highlands, John Grey
Bryant Literary Review
I can't get over the belief
that the simplest people always know more;
Superior, Ryan Guth
Superior, Ryan Guth
Bryant Literary Review
These pine-dark
shores are seventy
thousand years old
Lesson One, Janet Proulx
Lesson One, Janet Proulx
Bryant Literary Review
All winter long
Sister Mary Julian would enter the classroom,
Post-Freudian Dreaming, Richard N. Bentley
Post-Freudian Dreaming, Richard N. Bentley
Bryant Literary Review
I had a dream Tuesday night in which I was either attending a lecture
Junior College, J. Tarwood
Junior College, J. Tarwood
Bryant Literary Review
All my friends had gone off
As if each had found a fate.
Leavetaking, Janet Proulx
Leavetaking, Janet Proulx
Bryant Literary Review
As I leave the nursing home where my mother now lives
The Counterpoint Lesson, Lyzette Wanzer
The Counterpoint Lesson, Lyzette Wanzer
Bryant Literary Review
My father always told me there were two kinds of jazz: white people's jazz, and "the real thing."
Sean, Courtney Zullo
Sean, Courtney Zullo
Bryant Literary Review
A handcrafted butterfly hangs over her bed,
Infant Savant, Naton Leslie
Infant Savant, Naton Leslie
Bryant Literary Review
Madonna and child on
the south-east crossing pier
Thoughtless, Chris Semansky
Thoughtless, Chris Semansky
Bryant Literary Review
A piano falls from the sky.
A quite beautiful piano.
Punching Air, Ben Brooks
Punching Air, Ben Brooks
Bryant Literary Review
Dead fish floated in close to shore. There were so many of them
First Sky, Jay Udall
First Sky, Jay Udall
Bryant Literary Review
Some days you don't need a second sky--
the one outside is what you have
Across The Line, William Holinger
Across The Line, William Holinger
Bryant Literary Review
The trouble is that the balls go where you throw them.
-- a well-known saying in juggling
Standing in foul territory over by the cornfield, roughing up the game ball,
Inky Went Down To The Well, K. S. Phillips
Inky Went Down To The Well, K. S. Phillips
Bryant Literary Review
None of us knew how pure Inky was until we drank her. Sadly, our awareness came three summers too late.
The Touch So, Rob Diehm
The Touch So, Rob Diehm
Bryant Literary Review
the touch so
deep (little hairs
stand on end)
we become one